Touch of Heaven
by Shelby Bean
Summary: Dean has been secretly visiting a spa, but his usual massage therapist is out and he's stuck with the temp, Castiel.


Dean winced as he turned the steering wheel. He knew his back was majorly screwed up when such a small movement sent bolts of pain from his neck to his hips. Spending hours flat on his back under a car, with nothing but a sheet of cardboard between him and the cold cement, was taking its toll. He wasn't as young as he used to be.

At the next stoplight, he pulled out his mobile and scrolled through the contacts. Dean was too paranoid that Sammy would snatch his phone and find his secrets, so many of his contact names were abbreviations or codes. His thumb stopped on "ToH" and he swiped to dial the number. The light turned green and he jammed the phone between his ear and shoulder so he would have both hands free. Another sharp pain made him grimace and suck in air.

"Touch of Heaven Day Spa," a woman's voice answered.

"Pamela, your voice is music to my ears," Dean teased.

"Dean, sweetheart!" He could practically hear the smirk in her voice. "What'd you do this time?" she demanded.

He chuckled. "Wouldn't you love to know. Got any openings?"

She hummed as she flipped open the schedule book. "Can you be here at quarter till five?"

Dean sighed with relief. "Anything for you, Pam." He felt the knot between his shoulders begin to ease already. "Thanks," he added, more sincerely.

"I'm always saving your ass. See you then, honey."

He pulled into the parking lot at 4:38 and made his way inside. The waiting room was a clean, modern style, and classical music played from a speaker in the ceiling. Dean plopped down on a white sofa and made himself comfortable, his knees spreading out to take up as much space as three people.

Pamela stuck her head around the corner and grinned at him. "Right on time. Hey, I forgot to mention on the phone, Anna is out today on a family emergency. Would you mind seeing the temp instead? If that's a problem, Naomi can see you in half an hour."

Dean grimaced. "No, that's fine. The temp is fine."

She nodded, satisfied. "I thought as much. Come on back and I'll get you set up." He hurried after her like an eager puppy. Pamela directed him to a massage room, then said "Castiel will be right in," before she left, shutting the door behind her.

"Castiel?" Dean repeated, wrinkling his forehead, but he didn't have time to puzzle over the odd name. He yanked off his shoes and quickly stripped out of his clothes. There was a small table in the corner for his belongings, and he stacked his clothes on top and tucked his work boots under, as usual. Then he pushed himself up onto the massage table in the center of the room and slid his legs under the loose sheet on top. He eased himself down on his stomach, lining up his face with the opening in the curved headrest. He let out a slow, tired breath as he settled into the crisp white sheets.

This temp better be good. If she was half as talented as Anna, he'd be impressed. Not that he had much choice; Dean had gone to Naomi once, but her rough treatment had left him sore for a week, and he'd vowed never again. Anyway, what kind of name was Castiel?

A quiet knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. "Yeah, ready, come in," he answered, his voice muffled through the headrest. He appreciated the courtesy of knocking, even though things were about to get pretty personal. Dean wondered if he should check out the temp before they got started. It was risky. If she were attractive, it might make things awkward. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey, uh, Cas. I'm Dean."

"Hello Dean."

Dean's head shot up, then he flinched from the pain his sudden movement had caused. The man reached out to steady him, and his hand clasped Dean's shoulder. After a moment, Dean looked up to meet the man's eyes. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, failing to find words that wouldn't sound completely ignorant. "You're Castiel?"

The man's gaze didn't flinch, in fact he looked almost bemused by Dean's reaction.

Dean shook his head slightly. "Sorry, I…" he snapped his mouth shut before he could say something rude. "I usually see Anna."

Castiel nodded once. "Yes, I read her notes on you to prepare."

"Notes?" Dean's eyes grew wide. "Ah, shi– sorry. So I guess you know everything about me?" he joked. Immediately he wished he hadn't.

"You could say that."

He couldn't tell if the guy was messing with him. "Well, uh… let's get this over with." Dean settled back down on the table, trying to relax.

"Of course," Castiel answered calmly. Dean tried to slow his racing heart as he listened to him moving around the room. Jars clinked. A dial turned. "I'll start with your upper back, and go from there. If the pressure becomes too much, or if I cause you any discomfort, please let me know." His voice was nice, very low and a bit rough. Something twitched, and Dean bit his lip hard, trying to distract himself. After a few seconds, he realized the guy hadn't moved.

"Ready when you are, Cas," he said. Dean was embarrassed at the way his voice sounded, kind of shaky or nervous. He cleared his throat again and forced his voice a little deeper. "I hope you're know what you're doing." The contact of warm hands on his bare skin instantly shut him up.

"Have faith, Dean," his voice rumbled.

It didn't take long for Dean to relax under the man's expert touch. Castiel's hands were big, but soft. The massage oil carried a pleasant, faintly sweet smell through the room. Cas wasn't rough like Naomi, but his hands moved more confidently than Anna's. He could appreciate confidence. A few times, Dean heard himself groaning as those strong fingers worked loose a knot from his overworked muscles.

Once he had spent time on every inch of Dean's back, Cas proceeded to massage his neck, then his shoulders, biceps, forearms, down to each finger. Dean briefly wondered if he were drooling, but he was too relaxed to care. It took him a minute to realize that Cas had asked him something. He looked up groggily "Wha-? Huh?"

"I said, should I work on your glutes?"

"Sure, buddy, yeah." Dean let his head drop again. His brain didn't register was that meant until he felt cool air on his backside. He jerked his head up, eyes wide, and clutched at the sheet. "Cas, get out of my ass!"

Castiel frowned at him. "I was never…"

Dean stopped at the look on the guys face. Castiel was a professional, and here Dean was just being rude. He ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry man. My bad, you go ahead."

"Only if you are certain." He waited for Dean to settle down once again.

It turned out, having some dude squeezing his bare ass wasn't awful. Dean was just overthinking it. This guy knew what he was doing. Dean twitched again. Eventually, Cas finished with his glutes and turned the sheet back up to give Dean some modesty. Then he moved down to the foot of the table, folding up the bottom of the sheet to uncover Dean's legs.

The air against his warm skin made Dean shiver, but he quickly relaxed again as Cas smoothed more massage oil over the back of Dean's thighs. Soon the tension in his hamstrings was forgotten, and Cas moved down to his calf muscles, then his aching feet. Dean was almost purring as Castiel's thumbs circled into the arch of each foot.

"We're all finished," came the rumbling voice in Dean's ear.

"Already?" He pouted as he sat up. "No happy ending?" He rolled onto his side, squinting as he looked at the clock. Ninety minutes had passed. Dean's mouth dropped open in shock.

"The happy ending, Dean, is that you will be able to move without pain."

Dean blinked. "Cas, did you just make a joke?" Castiel tried to hold back an odd smile. Dean laughed. "Dude, you're awesome!"

Cas glanced down at the floor, looking pleased with himself. "Anything else you need before I go?"

Dean grew serious. "Where are you from? I mean, do you work somewhere around here?" He looked around, half expecting Naomi to jump out from behind the curtains, then lowered his voice. "Nothing against the rest of them here, but…"

Cas met his gaze, looking unsure. "I am what you might call 'between jobs' right now." He made the quotation marks in the air with his fingers. "But if I can build up a client base, they said I could get on rotation here."

"Well count me in, man. And if it helps, I'll tell people to come here and ask for you." They looked at each other warmly for a long moment, until Dean became very aware of the fact that he was still naked except for the sheet around his waist. He felt his cheeks start to flush. He tried to remind himself that this guy had already seen almost everything there was too see. That didn't help.

Cas placed his hand tenderly on Dean's shoulder, in the same spot he first touched him. "I hope to see you again soon, Dean." Then he was gone.

Dean had to think about baseball for almost five minutes before he could leave the room.


End file.
